Tag: reading list

dmsilvisart:

youhaveadeal:

dmsilvisart:

My art masterpost for Always Stuck In Second Gear   for the 

@spncanonbigbang​  with @thayerkerbasy

If you’ve paid even half attention to my blog you know Cas is my weakness and Crowley is my King! Season 12 finale was the only time my husband saw me speechless and want to cry over a fictional character, *ahem* characterS (plural)…..that being said—

This fic was SO FUN to read and illustrate, these aren’t even all the scenes that I WANTED to draw, but I ran out of time.   I mean c’mon my two faves on a road trip? Where music plays heavily into the story…. Crowley finding all sort of humorous ways to entertain himself while stuck in a truck with Cas….I was all in on this!  Y’all need to read this!  It’s an uneasy bromance (for a non-romantic ship would they be Crostiel?, Crowstiel? Casley?)  but there’s still so many “aww” moments, and “hey, he’s right about that!”,  and my favorite hellhound even gets some page time  🙂

I will stop rambling now, just go read it, show @thayerkerbasy some love for bringing this story to life!

Gorgeous, perfect art! I loved these, they fit the moments in the story really well. I especially love how you captured Crowley (and his facial expression in the shoulder devil and angel one killed me dead).
The Juliet one is also one of my favourites, i love how you made her sort of melt into the shadows💖 and yes, she’d totally have a pink collar:)) wonderful job!

*faints*

Thank you so much! What wonderful compliments.   I had awesome content to work from! @thayerkerbasy brought all the characters to life so well.  

I adore Juliet, I hope to draw more of her  🙂

rosemoonweaver:

Hey, @profoundfall , I finally wrote that 4th of July ficlet (and not a moment too soon). And guess, what? 666 words! 

There were few holidays the Winchesters actually celebrated. Christmas and Thanksgiving were always difficult to manage on the road, and Easter was a messy waste of eggs. Valentine’s Day didn’t become important until after they were old enough for hook-ups and even then it was really only celebrated by Dean. St. Patrick’s a good excuse to get drunk, but the Winchesters never really needed an excuse for that, and Halloween wasn’t even on the list of things they even wanted to think about. No, holidays were never really important to the Winchesters growing up, save for one; the Fourth of July.

It wasn’t that they were particularly patriotic, hell, neither Sam nor Dean had even registered to vote, it was more to do with the fact that every year on the fourth, things seemed a little more normal. Several times when they were children, John would make sure they were staying at a motel with a pool, so his boys could spend the day swimming before he took them out to a field in the middle of nowhere. There, he’s set up a small campfire and treat his boys to slow roasted hot dogs and smores, and, when it got dark, as many illegal fireworks as they could manage. When they got older, and John fell deeper into his obsession, it was Dean who took Sam out to the middle of nowhere, just to see the look on his face when they shot mortars into the air. To this day, the summer of ’95, the year they nearly set the entire field on fire, is Dean’s most cherished memory.

But in the past several years, they’d let their holiday celebrations slip. Too many bad things had been going on in their lives. Now, however, with the Darkness and God having made amends and Sam having been rescued from the Men of Letters, and their mom back from the dead, there was no reason not to celebrate.

It was some field in the middle of nowhere Nebraska, where they set up a few ratty old blankets around a small fire pit. Eileen had joined them, per Sam’s request. They’d been skyping a lot in the past few months, but Dean was a good big brother about it and hadn’t teased him too much about it. Their mother was a different story, however, constantly asking when she was going to be allowed to meet her. Now, Mary had finally gotten her wish and was sat between Eileen and Castiel, laughing as Eileen taught her simple signs and cracked jokes. Sam and Dean sat on the trunk of the Impala, watching and nursing their beers in the warm glow of the fire.

“This is nice,” Sam said, leaning back against the rear window.

Dean nodded in response, unwilling to break the peace of the evening with too many words. It was then when the first firework from the fairground, not ten miles away soared into the air and exploded into a starburst of red sparks. Mary, Cas, and Eileen turned their attention upwards, towards the lights in the sky as several more fireworks shrieked and crackled.

“I’m thinking of asking Eileen on a date. Like a real date,” Sam whispered, nudging Dean with his elbow.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think it’s about time, ya’know?”

Dean smiled, watching the three people huddled together on the blanket. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” he said.

Sam and Eileen were cute together, and after all, they had been through it was about time Sam caught a break. Maybe it was about time that they all caught a break.

“And ya’know, maybe it’s about time for you, too,” Sam said, his eyes trailing over to the blue-eyed angel who was snickering at something their mother had said.

“Yeah, maybe it is.”

Sam and Dean hauled themselves off the trunk, settling in on either side of their mother to watch the light show above them, relishing in the warmth of the fire and family around them.

NEEDED: Generic Father Figure for Backyard BBQ

deancasheadcanons:

4.5k words based on this Craigslist ad

Fourth of July fic featuring a 20-year age difference, shotgunning, chubby dad Dean, lots of weed and my actual dad Gary

To interested individuals,

We will be throwing a backyard barbeque on July 1 with a group of about 15 men and women between the ages of 21 and 25. While most of us know how to operate a grill, none of us are willing to fulfill the role of “BBQ dad.” That being said, we are in need of a generic father figure between 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. We’ll be partying well into the night, shooting off illegal fireworks, making out with each other, etc., so you’re welcome to stay and hang out all night or leave once the grilling duties are complete.

Duties include:

-Grilling hamburgers and hotdogs (while drinking beer)

-Refer to all male attendees as “big guy,” “chief,” “champ,” and all female attendees by their first names because we’re not weird

-Talk about dad things like lawnmowers, building your own deck, Jimmy Buffet, etc. Funny anecdotes are highly encouraged. All while drinking beer.

Desired experience:

-Minimum 18 years as a dad

-Minimum of 10 years grilling experience

-An appreciation of a nice, cold beer on a summer day

We can’t pay you in money, BUT we can give you all the food and cold beer your heart desires. Grill for a few hours, then sit back and crack open a few cold ones with the boys.

THIS IS A REAL AD. Do not hesitate to call if you are interested. Preference will be given to applicants named Bill, Dave or Gary.

Keep reading

Stuck in a Snowglobe

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 10 | rosemoonweaver vs. @purgatoan
Prompt: snow squall
Ship: Dean/Ketch
Word Count: 2,983
Tags/Warnings: magic, canon divergent, canon verse, blowjobs, mild sexual content, enemies to lovers, sharing body heat, past child abuse, background Sam Winchester/Mick Davies
Summary: Dean and Ketch don’t really get a long. It’s not that he doesn’t like Ketch, he just gets on Dean’s nerves. Getting stuck in a snowglobe together is sure to help matters. 
AO3 Link

“A witch with a hobby shop. Cute,” Dean said, checking the doorway. It was dark inside, and eerily quiet, but the witch had to be in here somewhere.

“Because cursed chachkies are exactly something you’d find endearing,” Ketch said.

Dean rolled his eyes. Leave it to him to draw the short straw and get stuck with Ketch of all people. Ever since he and Mick wound up breaking from the Men of Letters they’d been hanging around Dean and Sam like lost puppies. That was great for Sam, having someone to geek out with and discuss different and more ethical methods of monster fighting but that meant Dean got stuck with Ketch most of the time. It wasn’t that Dean hated him, it was just, well, he rubbed Dean the wrong way. He was quiet most of the time but then he’d say something a little too biting and close to home and Dean was stomping out of the room. He wasn’t sure how, but the bastard was great at digging down deep and finding shit. And he was hot and kinda smug about it, and that pissed Dean off a little, too.

Dean walked around the corner, waving Ketch along with him. They walked slowly, so their footfalls wouldn’t cause the floorboards to squeal beneath their feet. The witch had to be around here somewhere, they’d seen her run it. Dean and Ketch took the backdoor while Sam and Mick took the front.

There was a clatter to the left, followed by Sam’s distinctive shout. Dean sprinted off towards the noise, Ketch following close on his heels. They found themselves in the front room, the witch standing in front of the cash register with Sam and Mick pinned to the wall across from her, both hands raised in the air.

“Sam!” Dean shouted.

The witch swung her head around and dropped a hand, causing Mick to fall to the floor. Two things happened at once then, Dean and Ketch fired their guns and the room flashed purple.

~~~

Dean awoke on the ground. It was freezing, and there was a thin layer of snow under him, soaking into his jeans. He sat up, feeling that familiar metallic twang on magic in his mouth. His head was swimming, and all he could make out around him was a vast expanse of white. Ketch lay next to him, stirring as he woke.

“Where the fuck are we?” Dean muttered out loud. He dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Sam. The line didn’t even ring.

“Fuck, no service,” Dean grumbled, stuffing it back into his pants pocket.

“What’s going on?” Ketch asked, rubbing his head as he sat up.

“We’ve been bippity-boppity-booed.”

“Wonderful.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dean said. “I have no fucking idea where the hell we are.” Dean stood up, shielding his face from the harsh light above them. Everything was washed out and a little too bright.

Ketch rose to his feet and did the same. “There’s a house in that direction,” he said, pointing to the left. There was a cabin off in the distance, a small cluster of pine trees next to it, but nothing else nearby. Dean’s hackles, raised. There was something very off-putting about the landscape but Dean couldn’t yet put his finger on exactly why.

Dean grunted in acknowledgment and the two started off in the direction Ketch had pointed in in silence, the snow crunching beneath their feet.

It only took a few minutes of walking for the earth to start to shake and the sky to grow dark. In an instant, snow was blowing all around them, pelting them in the face and whiting out everything around them. Dean sprinted in the direction he thought the snow. Ketch was next to him, the dark shape of his jacket all Dean could really make out. Hopefully, they wouldn’t wind up separated in the snow, because as much as Ketch pissed him off he didn’t want to be stuck out in the middle of God knows where without cell service all by himself.

It was just about the point that Dean and who he assumed was Ketch made it up the looming shape of the cabin when the snow stopped, just as suddenly as it had begun. It was still dark and Dean was chilled to the bone, but the cabin was ahead of them and that was a bonus.

When they came up to the cabin door, Dean’s suspicion that there was something off paid off.

“Okay, something’s fucked,” Dean said. The door to the cabin had no doorknob, just a painted-on gold circle where one should be. There wasn’t a window or a peephole either, just painted imitations. The windows on either side of the door were vacant of glass; they were just holes in the walls with painted wood that looked like window panes.

Ketch walked towards the door, pushing it with his fingertips. It swung open easily, but there was nothing on the inside, just a single empty room, save for the ugly red and green tapestry hanging off one wall. “It’s plastic,” Ketch said, stroking down the faux-wood grain.

“How the hell can it be plastic?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know, it just is,” Ketch snapped. “It’s a plastic house.”

“Why the fuck would there be a plastic house in the middle of butt fuck nowhere?”

Ketch rolled his eyes. “Well, if nothing else it will provide shelter if it starts snowing again.” And with that, he marched into the house and left Dean behind.

Dean grumbled and followed, unholstering his gun and checking around the corners, just on the off chance there was something in the room with them.

It was awkward for a while, with Dean pacing the room with Ketch just kind of stood in the middle of the room, fussing with his jacket. Dean didn’t have anything to say. What was there to say, really? Wherever the witch zapped them they were stuck for the foreseeable future. And that was just fucking perfect.

“Snowglobe,” Ketch said suddenly.

“Do what now?”

“We’re in a snowglobe.”

Dean stopped in his tracks, glancing out the window and out into the emptiness surrounding them.

“How do you figure?”

Ketch sighed like he was put out by Dean’s question. “We’re in a plastic house in the middle of nowhere. It’s dark but that happened suddenly and there are no clouds in the sky at all. Not ever snow clouds. Also, it snowed suddenly, hard, and then it just stopped.”

“So you think snow globe is the most logical explanation? That makes fucking sense.”

“Weren’t the witch’s victims disappeared for weeks at a time. That witness Sam and Mick interviewed did say he was some place cold and isolated for a week until his wife agreed to the witch’s terms. I’d say this counts as cold and isolated.”

Dean grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you’d like to test my theory and walk until you run into the glass be my guest, but we were in a hobby shop and now we’re not. If you were a witch where would you toss your attackers?”

“I dunno, I’d just kill ‘em.”

Ketch rolled his eyes. “Yes, that would be the logical thing to do. But if you panicked what would you do?”

“Fuck, I dunno,” Dean said, plopping down on the floor and leaning up against the wall. “Guess it makes about as much sense as anything else.”

The ground shook beneath them then, and the wind picked up again. Snow blew behind them, a few flakes falling in through the window and landing in Dean’s hair.

“And there’s that,” Ketch said, “the earthquake thing.”

“Yeah, but why aren’t we drowning?” Dean asked.

Ketch shrugged. “Magic, probably.”

“I really fucking hate witches,” Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

~~~

It snowed off and on in brief spurts while Ketch and Dean sat in silence. There was nothing to do but wait and stew. Hopefully, Sam would figure out what had happened to them and figure out a way to fix it. He had to because there was no way Dean was going to die here, in a damn snow globe after all the shit he’d been through. It was cold as hell, and Dean’s clothes weren’t helping matters. They’d started to dry and his ass was numb from the cold. Ketch’s leather jacket had served him well, though, keeping the water from soaking into his shirt. Lucky bastard.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ketch said, “but I wouldn’t be concerned if I was you. Sam and Mick will take care of it.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it,” Dean said, “it’d just be nice if they could figure it out asap so we can get the hell out of here.”

“It’s not so bad,” Ketch said.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, okay. We’re just fucking stuck here with no food or water or way to get warm.”

“Well, that’s not technically true.”

“You planning on eating me if I keel over?”

“I don’t anticipate that being a problem. I was referring to getting warm.”

“You gonna pull that stick out of your ass and start us a fire?”

“I don’t see why you’re unnecessarily hostile all the time.”

“Yeah, figures you wouldn’t.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Figure it out.”

“Is the Men of Letters thing again? Because if it is I’ve already told you I have no love for them or their organization. I’ve already made it as clear as I can that I’m against them.”

“Well, sorry if it takes me a while to adjust to your sudden change of heart. You’ve only been with them for what? How old are you again? Forty-three? Yeah, forty-three years.”

Ketch actually groaned at that. “Well, excuse me for doing that instead of chumming around with the King of Hell, fallen angels, vampires, werewolves, and starting how many apocalypses again? Four? Five? Six?”

“Oh, fuck you. Those were a net good and you know it.”

“For who again? Those who died? The systems that were thrown into chaos?”

“You’re one to talk about the death toll. You were a glorified hitman.”

“From my perspective, I was doing the right thing. I thought it was it was a net good, too.”

“Yeah, well now you know past you is full of shit. So who’s right again?”

“You live in a glass house, Dean. I’ve done a lot of shit things in my life but I’m at least trying at this point. You’ve given monster your trust on a promise, and that’s all I ask of you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Ketch had a point and that kind of sucked.

“Yeah, fine whatever.”

Ketch rolled his eyes. There was silence for a while before he spoke again. “And it was twenty-nine years, just so you know.”

Dean did the mental math. “So what, you were… fourteen then? You parents start you off late?”

“I didn’t have parents.”

“You were an orphan?”

“I wish.”

Ketch said nothing after that and Dean tried to swallow the awkward lump in his throat. This was exactly why he hated Ketch. Dean would get all righteously angry for a good reason and then Ketch would say something and Dean would feel bad from him. It wasn’t like Dean didn’t understand that the guy had a shitty life; after all the shit Mick told them after the two escaped Kendrick’s he was sure the two of them had been through all kinds of hell. The mental torture alone was enough to fuck anyone up but especially if they were kids. It was bullshit but it didn’t change the fact that Ketch had done some fucked up shit, too. But, as Ketch was so apt to point out, so had Dean. He’d started the first apocalypse, and had a hand in most of the rest. Hell, he’d been a damn demon for God sakes. But having his transgressions thrown in his face all the time sure as hell didn’t feel good.

Probably didn’t feel good for Ketch either.

Dean sunk down on the ground and curled up into a ball, letting that thought roll around in his head as he tried to sleep.

~~~

Sometime during the night (or morning, or whatever), Dean woke up with his teeth clattering. He was trembling all over, rubbing his ice-cold hands against his arms to get warm, but it wasn’t helping.  Before he realized what was happening, Ketch was standing on his knees in front of him, pulling him up to a sitting position. Warm hands slid up to pull off his flannel overshirt and Dean grumbled, pulling away.

“Oh, stop,” Ketch said, “I’m just trying to help.”

“”S cold,” Dean said.

“I know. But if you stay in these frozen clothes it’s only going to get worse.”

“I’ll be colder if I’m naked,” Dean whined.

“Body heat,” Ketch said, slipping off Dean’s flannel and pulling the hem of his shirt up and over Dean’s head.

Dean whined, again.

“I know you hate me, but I’m trying to help you here. Despite what you believe I don’t actually want you dead.” Ketch undid Dean’s pants quickly shimmied them down Dean’s legs, stopping only to pull Dean’s boots off. He left Dean then, leaving him to shudder in the cold. Dean made a pitiful little sound, like that of a child. Ketch scoffed and was back before Dean could question it, first draping his leather jacket around Dean’s shoulders before pulling him close so their chests were pressed together and throwing the wall’s tapestry around the two of them.

“It’ll be better in a bit, I promise,” Ketch said.

Ketch was much warmer than Dean was, and he pressed himself close, not even bothering to care about the fact that he was practically on top of Ketch.

“Thank you,” Dean muttered. He was still shaking, but at least his teeth had stopped chattering.

Ketch hummed in acquiescence, the deep reverb of in rumbling against Dean’s chest.

Dean drifted off again, this time much warmer and much more comfortable.

~~~~

Dean awoke slowly, very much aware of the strong body curled into his own. For a brief moment, he was content and comfortable, but the realization that he was on the hard ground with an itchy wall carpet draped over him came flooding back way too soon. He groaned, rolling away to stretch his muscles, his joints popping. Ketch awoke at that, withdrawing and groaning on his own. The two didn’t speak and Dean stayed wrapped up in Ketch’s jacket and the tapestry for a long time before either one of them said anything.

“You know, I don’t actually hate you, right?” Dean asked.

“Could have fooled me,” Ketch said. They were separated, but sitting only a few feet away against the wall.

“Yeah, I know. But I don’t actually hate you. You piss me off, sure, but you’re not that bad, really.”

“I’ll add ‘not that bad, really’ to my list of positive personality traits then,” Ketch said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to be nice, here.”

Ketch stared at him, a single eyebrow raised on his forehead.

“Yeah, I know, I suck at it. I’m trying to say that yeah, you get under my skin because you say shit that hits a little too close to home and you piss me off and all that but you’re not a total douchebag and you’re trying so I don’t hate you.”

“And you find me attractive and that pisses you off,” Ketch said.

“Fuck. Dude, really?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“You know, this is exactly the kind of shit I’m talking about.”

Ketch nodded and hummed. “Do you want a blowjob?”

Dean scoffed. “Dude! What? No! I’m not – what the fuck would even – what?”

“I’m just offering. It wouldn’t be a bad way to relieve the tension between us.”

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You have the most fucked up way of flirting I’ve ever seen.”

“So is that a no?”

Dean snorted and pulled Ketch into a dirty kiss by the scruff of his neck. From there, it didn’t take Ketch long to get his lips around Dean’s cock, and it didn’t take Dean long to return the favor.

~~~

There was something to be said about Sam’s nearly perfect timing. After Dean had had his brains sucked straight out of his dick and gleefully returned the favor, the musky taste of Ketch on his tongue was corrupted by the tang of magic once again. He was out for a moment, only to awake in the bunker’s library, tapestry still bunched up around his waist. There was a large spell book open on the library table, Mick standing over a golden bowl with a jar of powder still in hand.

“Really guys?” Sam said, gesturing between Dean and Ketch who were disheveled but at least covered where it mattered. “What the hell even happened?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak but Sam cut him off once again. “You know, I don’t think I want to know. Just, don’t tell me and we’ll consider it a thank you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. But now you know what I go through every time you and Mick sneak off to the showers.”

Sam rolled his eyes and Mick blushed.

“Yeah, that’s right, I know,” Dean said.

Sam shook his head. “I just hope this means you two will stop sniping at each other all the damn time.”

“As long as he stops, we’re good,” Dean said with a smile.

“Me?” Ketch raised his eyebrows, “I’d say he’s much more antagonistic.”

“Yeah fuckin’ right,” Dean said, his voice raising in pitch just a bit, “you’re the one who starts it.”

Sam groaned and stalked out of the room, Mick following on his heels.

Dean and Ketch just smiled.

Tag List: @maliciouslycreative, @justanothersaltandburn , @princessjimmynovak , @jerksarehot , @samanddeaninpanties , @purgatoan

Maybe Florida Isn’t So Bad

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 10 | rosemoonweaver vs. @ladysimoriah
Prompt: humidity
Ship: Donna/Jody
Word Count: 2,508
Tags/Warnings: canon verse, first kiss, bisexual Jody Mills, demisexual Donna Hanscum
Summary: Jody and Donna Have a case in Florida, and Florida sucks. 
AO3 Link

Jody lay flat across the motel bed, spread out like a starfish. She’d stripped down to her bra and panties, not even bothering with shorts or a tank top. It was way too hot for that shit. Once Donna got out of the shower and got dressed, then she could worry about putting actual clothes on, but for now, it was more work than it was worth. Florida sucked. It was bad enough that was in the nineties, but the humidity in the air made if feel at like it was a hundred.

Donna came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped tightly around her body and one wrapped around her hair. The thick cloud of steam from her shower followed her, cranking up the heat in the room.

“Ugh,” Jody grumbled, “I hate Florida.”

“It’s not so bad,” Donna said, walking toward her bed and digging some fresh clothes out her duffle bag. “’s just a little warm.”

“And sticky. And wet. And gross,” Jody said. “Remind me again why we didn’t just make Sam and Dean do this?”

“Something about a holy week. Didn’t know they were religious, but ya learn somethin’ new every day.”

Jody smiled. Donna could be so cute sometimes. “I hardly think their annual week in Vegas counts as a holy week.”

“Oh,” Donna said, a pink tinge rising on her cheeks.

Jody chuckled to herself and averted her eyes while Donna changed. She was very self-conscious about her body, which Jody absolutely didn’t understand. Donna was beautiful, but she was always worried about losing weight or looking too frumpy. It was obviously crap to anyone who had eyes, but Donna was adamant that she could always loose a few more pounds and always got that sad look on her face about an hour after she allowed herself to have a couple donuts. Jody suspected that her dick ex Doug was to blame for that. Jody really wished she’d punched him in the face when she had the chance.

“Okay, I’m changed,” Donna announced, holding her arms out and smiling timidly as if waiting for Jody’s approval. She was wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was still well and pulled back into a ponytail.

“Looks good,” Jody said, sitting up and rolling her neck, “why jeans though? You’re gonna boil out there.”

Donna shrugged. “I only brought blue jeans.”

“It’s Florida in August and you’re from South Dakota.”

“It’s just a little warm.” Donna smiled a bit, but there was a tiny little quirk around the corners of her lips that gave her away. Jody chose not to push it, though and dug through her own suitcase to find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for the rest of the day.

~~~

In hindsight, perhaps Jody should have called one of her contacts to take care of the kelpie. The swamps were somehow ten degrees hotter than everywhere else (or at least they felt that way) and the air was so thick it was hard to breathe. Also, it smelled like rotting plants and she was pretty sure she was getting a wicked sunburn, even though Donna had made sure the applied sunscreen. And there were alligators. Kelpies were dangerous, sure, but all you had to do was not ride them. Alligators, on the other hand, could have easily flipped their tiny little boat and ripped an arm or two off if they wanted to.

“See anything yet?” Jody asked, her eyes following Donna’s gaze off towards the shore to the right.

“Just a couple o’ birds, I think,” Donna said.

Jody sighed, glancing at her watch. They’d been out for four hours at that point and the sun was still high in the sky.

“This is kinda fun, you know?” Donna said, turning to face Jody. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were red. “It reminds me of ice fishing with my dad.”

“You used to ice fish?”

“Oh, yeah, every winter. My dad and my uncle and the cousins would go up to the cabin every year and see if we could catch anything. Usually, we just went home with wet bottoms.”

“Huh. You know, ice fishing sounds a lot more fun than this right now.”

“It was nice,” Donna said. “I haven’t been since I was twelve.”

“Why not?”

Donna frowned, looking out over the glassy water under them. “Pop passed away and mom wasn’t much for fishing. Uncle Abe couldn’t look after four kids on his own.”

“I’m sorry,” Jody said.

“Thanks. It was fun while it lasted, though.”

“I used to do target practice with my mom. She was a cop, too,” Jody said, “wiped the floor with me every competed until I was fourteen. I was a horrendous shot.”

Donna laughed. “Shut your mouth! No! I can’t believe that.”

“No, it’s true. I was terrible. Of course, I was nearsighted and refused to wear my glasses under my safety goggles.”

“Did you wind up getting contacts?”

“Nah. I just changed my mind when I got into high school because Amber Studebaker said people who wore glasses were hot. I wore them all the time after that.”

“Ah. You did it to impress a girl,” Donna said, playfully punching Jody in the shoulder. “that’s cute.” She smiled then, wrinkling her nose.

Jody smiled and shrugged, despite herself. “Yeah, well. Didn’t do too much in the long run though. She wasn’t interested in me anyway.”

“Obviously she needed glasses,” Donna said, her eyes wide and lips held in a circle when she seemed to realize what she said.

Jody was just about to say something when there was a splash behind her, and Donna dove for the shotgun sitting in the bed of the boat next to her.

The kelpie never stood a chance.

~~~~

Jody and Donna wound up dragging themselves back into the motel room after dark. The kelpie itself wasn’t that hard to take down. Donna was able to wound it with several shotgun blasts so that it wasn’t charging or thrashing too much for Jody to nail it in the heart with a silver bullet. The thing exploded into a jelly after that and Jody and Donna were covered in it. They had to spend two more hours in the swamp after that, the goop drying on their skin and boy was that fun. The kelpie slime did pretty much the exact opposite of aloe vera and their skin stung and burned faster than it had earlier. Their sweat wasn’t even washing it off, and by the time they were both back on solid land and in Jody’s van they’d poured two bottles worth of water out on themselves in the hopes that it would wash off. At least they weren’t bleeding, though. Jody didn’t even want to think about what that goop would feel like in an open wound.

Donna offered Jody the shower first. Jody didn’t even try to fight her on that one. She was too hot and if she had to spend more than five more minutes with this crap on her she might wind up clawing her skin off. The water was ice cold when it hit her skin but it felt nice. She just stood under the spray for a bit, letting the heat leach off her skin before she borrowed Donna’s body wash and scrubbed the gunk off her skin.

The relief of her shower pretty much evaporated when she stepped out of the bathroom, however. It was too damn hot, again, and even though she’d dried off her skin she was dripping with sweat in the next five minutes. Donna just nodded at her before taking her turn with the shower.

Jody dressed with minimal effort, slipping on a t-shirt and underwear before throwing her towel on the bed post and leaning up against the headboard of her bed. She flipped through a few channels before settling on the local news and texting Claire and Alex to let them know she and Donna were safe and headed home, soon. She got a simple “K” from both of them before rolling her eyes and plugging her phone in. It wasn’t really like she expected the girls to give her a play-by-play of their days but it would be nice to actually talk to them more than once a week. Claire was off in Phoenix, tracking down a vamp nest with a few other hunters and Alex was in school, hopefully studying but probably not. They rarely told her what they were up to or if they got back to their motel or dorm rooms safe, no matter how many times Jody said she’d appreciate even a text at the end of the night. She trusted them, though. It was a dangerous world out there, but they could handle themselves for the most part. And, if they couldn’t Jody would kill whoever or whatever hurt her girls and no one would ever find their body.

Donna came out of the bathroom, same as she had previous, towel wrapped tightly around her body. Jody was too tired to bother rolling over, so she just shut her eyes and waved her hand at Donna. It didn’t make much sense for her to worry about whether or not Jody saw her naked. They were both friends and over the age of thirty. Jody might’ve been keeping fit over the years but she definitely had more pudge in places than she actually cared to. She wasn’t bothered by nakedness.

“Donna, can I ask you something?” Jody asked, rolling her head against the headboard. She kept her eyes closed though.

“Sure, Jodes, what’s on your mind.”

“Why are you so worried about me seeing you change clothes?”

“Oh. Uh. I’m just…” Donna’s voice trailed off as she padded around barefoot on the threadbare carpet, “I guess I’m embarrassed,” Donna said.

Jody scowled, still with her eyes closed. “Embarrassed about being naked? You know I won’t judge you or anything.”

“Yeah, well –“

“I’m serious. You could have three heads for all I care. And I know you don’t. And you’re not fat if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Donna sighed. “I know. You’ve said that several times.”

“So, what’s up?”

Donna was quiet for a minute while the bed across the room squeaked. “You can open your eyes now,” she said.

Jody opened her eyes to find Donna sitting cross-legged on the bed. She was wearing long flannel pajama pants and a tank top.

Jody scooted towards the center of her own bed, facing her. “What’s up?” She asked again.

“I – “ Donna glanced down towards the floor. “I’m just being silly.”

Jody sighed. “Donna…”

Donna withered a little more, playing with the frayed edge of her pant leg. Jody knew she was giving her the “mom look” and she kinda felt a little guilty about that, but she was curious. It wasn’t the first time Donna had done this, but it hadn’t always been this way. When they first started hunting together, she’d walked in on Donna while she was in the shower and there was nothing odd about it. She’d helped Alex patch up Donn’s hip after she got a particularly nasty scratch from a werewolf last spring. It was a sudden thing and Jody was fine with it at first, but she couldn’t help but be curious.

“You know how you said you tried to get the girl’s attention in high school? Amber Studebaker?” Donna said. Her voice was soft and barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, I never had that experience with that.”

“Oh.”

“Not that I haven’t… I just, it takes a lot for me to… find anyone attractive. And up until recently, it was just men. I didn’t know that I could… and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but it’s out there now, so…”

“Oh,” Jody said, “Is that all?”

Donna shrugged, “I know, it’s silly –“

“No, no, no! I didn’t mean it like that,” Jody said, rising to her feet and standing in front of Donna. She crouched down on the carpet, setting her hands on Donna’s knees so that she had to look her in the eyes. “I don’t think it’s silly at all.”

“No? Jody, I’m a grown woman and I’ve just now got a crush on another woman for the first time. That’s a little…”

“Normal. It’s perfectly normal.”

Donna shrugged.

“You don’t need to feel bad about it. It’s normal for you, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Donna squirmed on the bed, “even though it’s directed at you?”

Jody chuckled, “Donna, I don’t know how you don’t know this by now, but I think you’re beautiful, inside and out. You’re my best friend. And, if you’re interested in perusing this I’m willing to go at your pace.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Donna asked.

Jody shrugged. “Well, the last guy I went on a date with was a shapeshifter who tried to kill me so I doubt it could end any worse than that.”

Donna snorted. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” Jody said.

Donna looked down at her, a shaky little smile on her lips. “I’d like that.”

Jody leaned up, wrapping Donna in a tight hug. “Can I take you to dinner when we get back home?”

“Only if I can kiss you?”

Jody leaned down and let her lips brush against Donna’s, keeping her hands settled around Donna’s shoulders. Her fingertips brushed against the long hair on Donna’s back, which had curled into loose waves. Donna’s hands came up to rest tentatively at Jody’s hips. After a few cautious kisses, Jody coaxed Donna’s lips open with her tongue, then licked a single swipe against Donna’s tongue. Donna responded, though timidly at first, by kissing a bit more insistently and slipping her own tongue into Jody’s mouth. It didn’t take long after that for the two to guide each other forward and back for their lips and for Jody to slide her fingers through Donna’s silky hair. Donna’s hands though, stayed where they were and Jody pulled back after a bit to breathe.

“You okay?” Jody asked.

“Yeah,” Donna said, a little breathless, “can we, um, maybe take a break?”

Jody skimmed her hands down Donna’s arms, letting them on her hands. “Of course. Like, I said, we’ll go at your pace.”

Donna chuckled and jerked Jody down to sit next to her on the bed. She plopped down, and the two of them sat in the quiet of the motel room for a while as the air conditioner hummed in vain behind them.

“You know, the girls are going to freak out on us,” Donna said.

Jody chuckled. “You know, I kinda hope so.”

“You think we should tell them?”

“It would probably be fair.”

“Oh,” Donna said, “we got get them back for all the things they forgot to tell us and wait until Thanksgiving.”

“That’s mean,” Jody said, bumping her shoulder against Donna’s, “I’m so in.”

Tag List: @purgatoan, @maliciouslycreative, @deadlykittenkay, @samanddeaninpanties, @jerksarehot

Hi! Could I have Cat Lover Dean and Tattooed/Pierced Castiel please?

jupiterjames:

ORDER UP!

Dean’s next door neighbor is going to fucking kill him. He thinks. They don’t tend to mix much, even though their apartment doors are side-by-side in the quaint, renovated Victorian house. 

Dean’s been looking for his cat, Lucifer, since the night before. The bastard had door dashed when Dean returned from work, and never showed up despite him shaking bags of treats and making dumbass kissy noises all over the neighborhood.

Lucifer’s back, and he’s having a staring contest with Castiel Milton. God’s gift to Dean’s monochrome life. Castiel is just… everything Dean covets, really. Dark hair tinged with electric blue, thick black glasses, nose ring, fully pierced left ear, and an explosion of color up his entire right arm. Dean’s never seen the tattoo completely, but it looks like angels bathed in cool tones fighting demons in warm tones in splashes of watercolor.

He’s also smoking a Marlboro Light, the white filter of the cigarette casually hanging out of his mouth; stuck to his pale lips in a way that makes Dean want to kiss the life out of him.

He cringes when Castiel, face pinched in his usual grumpy-murderous look, reaches towards the cat. Please don’t hurt my cat, he prays.

To his utter shock, Castiel strokes the top of the Scottish fold’s head so incredibly gently with his knuckles, then he follows the movement forward, stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray on the porch railing, and kisses the cat right between his eyes.

Dean’s whole body stutters as he approaches the porch stairs. He doesn’t think Castiel has seen him yet. But he has.

Without removing his pale blue gaze from the cat, Castiel says in a gravel-rough voice Dean’s sure he’s never heard before because he doesn’t remember feeling these butterflies before, “why would you name a cat Lucifer?”

“Because cats are devils,” Dean answers easily, really about to swallow his tongue. “Awesome little devils.”

Castiel’s gaze shifts up and it freezes Dean in place, even though his body is on fire. “Dean Winchester, apartment two. I’m Cas Milton, apartment one.”

“Yeah… I know. Don’t think we’ve ever spoken before. Sorry about that.” Not for the lack of trying, his brain stage whispers. Castiel just seems so… above. Scary, too. He’s intense. And Dean gets the impression that Castiel has found something lacking in Dean by the way his gaze sharpens. 

He can barely look at Castiel. It’s like staring into the sun. He’d always thought it was a stupid cliche, until it wasn’t anymore.

Therefore he’s struck dumb when Castiel says haltingly, “thank you.”

Dean looks up and is rooted by something his brain won’t process. Castiel is staring at Dean with a red face and wide, earnest blue eyes. “For?” Dean prompts hoarsely. What is HAPPENING?!

“Back… when…” he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. Is he… embarrassed? No way. No fucking way. “When I first moved in,” he rushes on. “You brought me the…” he cups his hands. “The cupcakes. From the local bakery. Left them hanging on the door with the lovely welcome note. They were good. I never thanked you. I didn’t know how.”

Slowly, Dean steps up onto the porch, resting his hip against the railing. “How do you not know how to say thanks? Not that I’m accusing you, or nothing. I’m just surprised.”

Castiel shifts on his foot, arresting eyes falling to his combat boots. “I’m not a people person. I don’t easily relate to others. And you were…” he balls his fists and smacks them against his thighs. “You were irritatingly hot.”

Dean laughs, startled and happy. At least he knows Castiel doesn’t hate him. “I’m not anymore?” The wink is too irresistible to hold back.

If possible, Castiel’s face gets redder. His shoulders hunch. “That’s not what I meant,” he mumbles. “You still are.”

In his distraction, Dean’s almost lost track of Lucifer, who’s starting to get bored. He grabs the cat and drapes him over his shoulder before he can make a second mad escape. “I gotta get this bastard inside, but, like, hey, do you wanna come in? Hang out?”

Castiel blinks up at him looking pleased. “Yes, Dean, I would. I think we would get along if we… hung out. Thank you.”

Grinning, Dean nods over his shoulder. “Come on in.” He thrills at the sound of Castiel’s heavy boots clomping behind him. And if he gives Lucifer an extra chin scratch and treats for bringing about this incredible turn of events, no one needs to be the wiser.

Choose Your Own Adventure – Supernatural Highschool AU writing prompt

pherryt:

pherryt:

So, yesterday I got this prompt : 98: 

I
can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart. for Destiel – Dean/Michael with jealous Cas

After filling that prompt I got a request for continuations that went 2 different directions (and there might be continuations further down the road for THOSE) so, Here you go – in choose your own adventure style:

Love Triangle (Dean/Michael – jealous Cas)

After Cas’s shocking confession, what does Dean do?

Note: i’m going to try and edit this later for future ‘choices’ as they come in. This is a lot of fun 😀

EDIT 1:

If you chose Option A – Dean goes After Cas, then Part 3 can be found here

EDIT 2:

If you chose Option B – Dean stays with Michael – then the next part can be found here

There – I posted the Choose Your Own Adventure up on A03 today since it’s a nice, self contained little story 😀

@jdragon122 @rosemoonweaver @madamelibrarian @feathers-and-cigarettes @destielonfire @hetaliankilljoy @trisscar368

total word count comes to: 5182

maliciouslycreative:

created for @spnpolybingo
Title: Player Three Is Now Connected
Ship: Dean/Castiel/Michael
Square: Retail Workers
Rating: T
Word Count: 2063
AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11242086
Tags: Alternate Universe: Retail, Video Games, Mass Effect, Polyamory, Humour, Awkwardness

——

Dean would be the first to admit that working at
Final Encounter Gaming wasn’t how he’d planned to spent the last 5 years
of his life. He’d certainly never intended to stay this long because
honestly the pay was kinda shit and retail had a tendency to suck the
life right out of you. Not to mention his boss, Zachariah, knew nothing
about gaming except that there was a lot of money in it. So here Dean
was, working a shit job for shit pay just because at this point
Zachariah let him have pretty much free reign of the store.

So
when Zachariah waltzed in on Tuesday morning Dean knew something was
up. Zachariah never came in this early on a Tuesday. “Good morning,
Dean-o!” Zachariah practically sung.

Dean plastered the biggest fake smile on his face that he could muster. “Good morning, boss.”

“So,
I know you’re pretty good for staff right now but my nephew needed a
job so he’s going to be starting this Friday. He only needs a couple
shifts a week, so I’m sure you’ll have no issue working him into the
schedule.

“That sounds great,” Dean lied through his teeth.

“Good
to hear!” Zachariah clapped Dean on the shoulder then started heading
to his office in the back. “I told him to come in while you were here
Friday so you can show him the ropes.”

“Sounds
great…” Dean made a disgusted face after Zachariah was out of view.
This was a disaster. Every one of Zachariah’s family members that he’d
given a job to were a nightmare to work with.

Keep reading

Passive-Aggressive Undertaking

jamesnovakwinchester:

Title: Passive-Aggressive Undertaking
Link
Pairings: Dean/Ketch/Meg (poly v), Dean/Ketch, Dean/Meg
Square Filled: Enemies to Lovers
Tags: Prank Wars, Business Rivals, Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Frottage, Polyamory, Poly V, Open Relationships, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Aromantic Dean Winchester, Aromantic Meg Masters, Pansexual Arthur Ketch, Biting, Hair-pulling, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting, funeral homes, Morticians, Fist Fights
Summary: Dean hates Arthur Ketch. It’s bad enough that the asshole keeps stealing his clients, but once they get caught up in a prank war the bastard has the audacity to actually be good at that, too. Meg thinks they should just fuck it out, but Dean’s determined that he’s going to win this one. 

“That motherfucker,” Dean hissed, jerking away from the blinds. He turned away from the window, crossing his arms over his chest, huffing.

“What’d Arty do now?” Meg asked. She was across the room, polishing the dark wood of the china cabinet across the room.

“The Adlers,” Dean said, “he sniped the Adlers.”

“Ouch,” Meg said, pulling a butterscotch candy out of her pocket and plopping it in her mouth.

Keep reading

This fic only has one lonely little kudo. That kudo needs some friends. 

Also, the fic is good and contains the phrase glitter dicks and I love it and wrote it so give me attention. 

worthy (destiel)

jadstiel:

Title: worthy
Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Rating: Porn
Wordcount: ~15k

snippet:

Cas stops pacing and for a hot second Dean thinks it’s because Cas is about to start another tangent about something else and completely glaze over the — “I haven’t watched any homosexual pornography,” Cas says, looking contemplative. “Perhaps I need to do more research.”

Oh, fuck me. “Uhh, sure. I mean, whatever ruffles your feathers, man.”

Cas does look at him then. “I don’t have feathers anymore, Dean.”

Asshole. Dean winces. “Tosses your salad,” he tries, and immediately wants to hit himself in the face. “Or, you know, flies your flag. I mean, hell, we’re in Kansas, but uh, no judgements here, right?”

Cas continues to stare at him. It’s just a different sort of stare, now.

read on AO3

worthy (destiel)